The Unluckiest Number
by godofappearances
Summary: Hans has just begun his journey back to the Southern Isles and sits in the ship's hold contemplating his next move. As he crafts a plan of escape he is plagued by memories of his boyhood home that threaten to undermine his self-confidence and rob him of the one weapon he holds dear: his mind. Ch. 3 (called Ch. 1) is up with first appearance of Pitch!
1. Beginnings

Hans closed his eyes and listened to the ship breathe beneath him, his head tipped back against the coarse wooden wall. It had been a few hours since the ship had left Arendelle, but the humiliation was still fresh and burned in him like a live, writhing thing, all elbows and knees. When the initial rage had been swept away by a tide of panic, he had felt almost catatonic with emotion, too paralyzed to even react to the insults hurled at him as people passed by on the deck. For what seemed like an eternity he was almost certain that Gunter was standing over him and listing his faults in alphabetical order, starting with arrogant and ending somewhere around pissant (at this point he had started tuning him out as he usually did) and then slowly, but surely, the blissful, terrible **calm** enveloped him.

Now he sat and took stock of the situation he had landed himself in by being careless enough to leave Anna unattended before making certain she was dead. God, how he cringed to remember his giddy reveal of the plan, the details of which he had spent many a sleepless night going over before this!- a rare trip to a kingdom with eligible princesses. How his brothers had smirked behind their beer tankards when his parents had appointed him with the task of traveling to far off Arendelle, a kingdom barely anyone had heard of that was offered as a kind of consolation prize, the kind given to the 13th in line whose only other prospect was a morganatic marriage to some wretched Noble's daughter. Even knowing it could potentially mean the chance of him becoming a king didn't worry them; that's how little they believed in his ability to do much of anything. Just thinking of them made Hans anger flare and his fingers clench; the thought of their sly, knowing faces put his perfect white teeth on edge.

_Then concentrate on getting __**out of here**__, _he reminded himself.

There was still a few weeks time until they reached the Isles, time enough to formulate a plan of escape and slip into another town where he could just as easily don the persona of an amnesiac prince (what woman could resist?) as he could the facade of a mysterious stranger with a shadowy past and a heart of gold. Any number of disguises were available to him; any amount of charm and wit at the ready. All his life had been a lesson in learning how to talk his way into and out of everything, and something as inconsequential as the attempted murder of two princesses wasn't about to stop him now.

Behind his head the ship breathed with him, and for the first time since he'd stepped aboard he smiled, elated.


	2. Flashback

Disclaimer (because I failed to do this last time): I do not own Frozen or anything associated with it. I am merely a very appreciative fan.

A note on the names:

In the interest of being as accurate as possible I tried to keep my names Scandinavian/Norwegian in origin because according to the Disney Wiki (great resource, btw): _"__Due to the Scandinavian setting of Frozen, the Southern Isles are most likely located somewhere in southern Norway, or possibly Sweden or Denmark, the latter of which is comprised mostly of islands."_

Because of how many brothers he has, it's probably going to be challenging to keep track of the names at times, but I've included what I hope will be a helpful reference guide for those who want some more information about the names themselves and so they can keep track of who's who in the story (unless otherwise noted all information concerning the names comes from ).

If you see the symbol **AN** (Author's note), that means I've added additional commentary as to why I chose a particular name.

**Parents:**

Magnus (King)- Late Latin name meaning "great". It was borne by 7th-century saint who was a missionary in Germany. It became popular in Scandinavia after the time of the 11th-century Norwegian king Magnus I, who was said to have been named after Charlemagne, or Carolus Magnus in Latin. The name was borne by six subsequent kings of Norway as well as three kings of Sweden. It was imported to Scotland and Ireland during the Middle Ages.

Embla (Queen)- Meaning uncertain, perhaps related to Old Norse almr "elm". In Norse mythology Embla and her husband Ask were the first humans. They were created by three of the gods from two trees. (**AN:** I later realized how similar her name is to Elsa's which was totally unintentional! Oops.)

**Children (in order of birth):**

1. Roald (Norwegian, Modern form of the Old Norse name _Hróðvaldr_ or _Hróaldr_, composed of the elements _hróðr_ "fame" and _valdr_ "ruler". This name was borne by the children's author Roald Dahl (1916-1990)). (**AN: **Besides personally loving Roald Dahl, I thought it was fitting their parents would name their firstborn with these kinds of qualities in mind.)

2. Henrik (Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, German, Hungarian, Slovene, Croatian, Armenian  
Form of **HENRY**)

3. Christian ( English, French, German, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, From the Medieval Latin name _Christianus_ meaning "a Christian" (see **CHRISTOS**). In England it has been in use since the Middle Ages, during which time it was used by both males and females, but it did not become common until the 17th century. In Denmark the name has been borne by ten kings since the 15th century. A famous bearer was Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875), the Danish author of such fairy tales as 'The Ugly Duckling' and 'The Emperor's New Clothes'.) (**AN: **I chose this name because I thought it would be a good nod to the original author of the "Snow Queen" which Frozen is based off of.)

4. Gunter (**AN: **Because I was tired and didn't think to look up just how out of place this name would be before I published it and I was on my work computer and that was my one copy of the beginning of the story and I didn't want to re-type it just to fix it, I'M SORRY. D:).

5. Asmund (Norwegian, Danish, From the Old Norse name _Ásmundr_, cognate of **OSMOND**.)

6. Bard (Norwegian, Norwegian form of the Old Norse name _Bárðr_, which was derived from the elements _baðu_ "battle" and _friðr_ "peace")

7. Loke (Norse Mythology, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Modern Scandinavian form of **LOKI**) (**AN: **Dude, I had to; I love me some Loki.)

8. Eirik (Norwegian, Norwegian form of _Eiríkr_ (see **ERIC**).)

9. Bjoern (Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Variant of **BJÖRN** or **BJØRN**)

10. Oddmund ( Norwegian, Possibly a modern coinage based on the Old Norse elements _oddr_ "point of a sword" and _mundr_ "protection".)

11. Dag (Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Derived from Old Norse _dagr_ meaning "day.)

12. Jens (Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish form of **JOHN**) (**AN: **Also as a nod to one of my friends who was just as enthusiastic about this idea as I was)

13. Hans (German, Dutch, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, German, Dutch and Scandinavian short form of **JOHANNES**. Two famous bearers were Hans Holbein (1497-1543), a Renaissance portrait painter from Germany, and Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875), a Danish writer of fairy tales.) (**AN: **If you look further through these pages you'll find one variant of Hans because it's based off of Johannes is "Jo" which I thought was super cute and immediately resolved to have one of his brothers use ever after.)

* * *

"Give it back!" Hans howled as Bjoern rounded the corner ahead of him, nearly upending a servant's tray with nary a glance back.

"Keep up with me, Jo! I lose ya, you lose this- straight into the fire!" He cackled over his shoulder as he side-stepped into the nearby library, knitted reindeer knotted in his fingers. Hans hesitated just outside the threshold; the last time he'd made the mistake of blindly blundering in after Bjoern was the same time Dag and Jens had been waiting inside to pummel him for being so brainless. No one in his family was more unsympathetic than himself; at seven years old with this many brothers ahead of him, only a fool could afford to make such an amateur mistake. As Gunter was so fond of reminding him: this was why little pissants couldn't rule the kingdom.

Hans tried to focus on listing the advantages of keeping Aage in his possession in order to curb the almost overwhelming desire to run in and rescue him, but the thought of Bjoern's sweaty hands matting his fur was almost too much to bear. Then from within he heard the sinister crow: "Into the fire it goes!"- after that, Hans knew they had him and hardly cared.

"'Ere he comes!" Dag cheered, slapping Bjoern on the back while exchanging a smirk with his twin, Jens. Hans watched with wide, tormented eyes as his brother dangled Aage over the open flames; it was all he could do to resist showing further weakness by reaching out to grab him. _Don't let them in, don't let them see_, he schooled himself. But! It was Aage! And hadn't Sven (the last one) been enough? Pretty soon his grandparents would stop sending toys like this one and then Hans would truly be alone (and none the better for it).

"Aw, just burn it already," Jens groaned. "I don't want to sit here all day while he wets his pants over it."

"Wait," Dag held up a hand, "I wanna see the pants-wetting."

"You never take my side!"

"Sharing a face isn't enough for you?"

"Quiet!" Bjoern snapped. "Stop your fighting. We're in Pissant's court now."

The boys tittered.

"It's the only court he'll ever know, so pay your respects!"

Jens slid down from his perch on the arm of the recliner and swept his arm out in a lazy, exaggerated bow, winking under the flop of his red bangs. "At yer service, my Lord Pissant."

"And I as well," Dag unfolded his lanky frame from the seat cushion and made a show of very stiffly, formally, and 100% mockingly lowering himself to one knee, resting his arm on top of it.

As he watched the farce unfold in front of him Hans felt the prick of tears in his eyes and savagely hated himself for it; surely this moment was bad enough without adding weeping to his shame? And to give them the satisfaction of the suffering they so craved to see in him was an unbearable insult to add to injury.

"Do whatever you want with him," Hans intoned hollowly. "It doesn't matter to me."

Bjoern smirked, clearly unconvinced. "I suppose you chased me through the castle for recreation's sake then? Not that it wouldn't help, mind, you're certainly fat enough. The next time a girl comes to the Isles she'll think we have a pig for a brother."

Han's face burned with shame; he could feel the telltale red creeping up his pressed blue collar and merging with the hue of his hair. This alone would have been enough to set the twins off, but that combined with the pig comment sent them into hysterical fits of laughter.

"My god, a pig! Brilliant, B! Fantastic comedy," One of them cheered.

"And his skin! It's like he was transforming right in front of me!" Wheezed the other.

If he thought he could have gotten away with it relatively intact, Hans would have gladly kicked the two of them right in the face since he wasn't likely to get such a tempting opportunity later. As it was his attention was still damnably intent on getting Aage back, a possibility which was now beginning to seem as impossible as a talking snowman. _Another for the fire_, He thought gloomily.

Before they could take this dramedy any further, the door opened and Gunter's impatient voice pierced through their laughter. "What are you pinheads doing? Haven't you heard about Arendelle?"

"Aren-what?" Jens asked, pausing in mid-roll on the lushly-carpeted floor.

Gunter rolled his eyes. "Read a damn map for once, why don't you. They closed their gates! Weseltown is ballistic over it."

"Did you say **Weasel**town?" Dag repeated, almost managing to say it without laughing.

Gunter's face reddened in a way that none of the three found amusing and quickly signaled the game was over for now. "Our parents want to discuss how this affects the Isles; come to the study at once."

Bjoern moved away from the fire with Aage still in hand until Gunter noticed. "Why do ya have that filthy thing? Here, let me-"

"Oh, shove off, blowhard, it's Jo's. Let him have it while he can." Bjoern tossed the doll limply at Hans and moved towards the door, ignoring the glower of his older brother's eyes. Of the twelve above him, Bjoern was only four away from Hans and no serious threat to the crown, but Gunter who was much closer (at number 4 in proximity, rather than distance) had always nursed an inexplicable grudge for him. "The clash of the titans" as Mikael had famously coined it once.

"Hurry up!" Gunter barked at the twins, both of whom were already standing and moving towards the door.

"Coming, coming!" Jens pulled on his earlobe, wincing. "No need to banshee me."

"I'll do a lot more than banshee you if you don't get your ass moving!" He roared, shoving one into the other like a pair of handsome Bobo dolls.

Itching to get after someone else Gunter's eyes fastened on Hans, but then Bjoern was gripping his hand and pulling him towards the door, down the hall, and shoving him towards his room. "Get out of here, Lord Pissant," He hissed. "Dumb as a reindeer, you are; don't have enough sense to know when you're in danger." Before he could respond, Bjoern was halfway down the hallway and running to catch up to the twins who gladly welcomed him by wrapping their arms around his shoulders. Gunter trailed behind and at the first backwards glance, Hans bolted out of sight and behind closed doors where he slid down the wall and contemplated the doll that rested cock-eyed in his lap.

"Reindeers aren't dumb," He murmured, pressing his forehead against Aage's. "They're _better_ than people."


	3. Chapter 1

As you may have guessed from prior chapters, the formatting is not something I have 100% figured out, so please bear with me. What I see on my side of the screen is very different from what is posting over there, but I'm sure I'll get the hang of it. First chapter where Pitch makes an appearance! As per usual, I don't own Frozen and now in this case, Rise of the Guardians either. The canon info I go off of for Hans comes from Disney Wiki which collects all the information printed on him (for example, did you know he's a naval officer and 23 years old?) and any additional information on Pitch's backstory I got from rufftoon, an animator who worked on the film and has since done little comic strips further exploring his past (you can find her gallery on deviantArt). While I am aware of the books and in most cases prefer them to movies, in this case, I will be using this version of Pitch Black and will be referring to everything within the movie and her comics as the source (canon) material.

Also, my wife thinks it's important for me to make it clear that any dialogue, inner or otherwise, you see of Hans' that is borrowed from other characters (his inner mantra ala Elsa, his reassurance to himself about Aage word for word from Kristoff) is just me paying tribute to the other characters in _Frozen_. I have yet to decide if any of them will be making an appearance since Hans probably wants to stay as far away from them as possible, but I wanted to show my appreciation for the cast by tying them to him in some other way.

* * *

It was several days into their journey before Hans spoke with another person at any length and he had mixed feelings about it. On and off the past few days he had had fevered dreams of the past interspersed with the present (in one he'd danced with Bjoern around the ballroom of Arrendale, in another Elsa was dumping an overnight bedpan down his front, while Jens and Anna looked on, giggling) and as a result he had gotten little sleep and was feeling considerably antisocial. His latest had been something a bit more benign, just a memory of chasing his siblings around to retrieve Aage, but still it wore on him, if only for the shameful reminder of what a complete and utter idiot he'd been. Was it really possible someone like _that _could have grown up to be a few glorious seconds away from lopping off the Queen's frosted blonde head half a week back? Surely a sensitive boy didn't have it in him to let a princess whose only crime was being too trusting freeze to death either? Except he was all of those things and he was not tortured by it any more than one is made distraught by snuffing out the light of a candle; it was just something you did to get on with the rest of your day after it had been of use to you. This was the lesson **he** had learned at court in The Southern Isles, something he was sure that no one of Arrendale, particularly Anna, could ever comprehend. If they thought he went home to be punished for nearly usurping the throne, they were wrong; he went home to be punished for failing. Failures didn't get a second chance where he came from.

"Your parents are furious," A voice whispered nearby his head.

Annoyed, Hans batted at the air as if to clear smoke, staring straight ahead. "They would be; I've made a fool of their entire kingdom. Lost them valuable trade partners and allies, no doubt."

"Your brothers are excited for you to come back, though…"

"Also, not a surprise. Honestly, what good are you to me if you can't even bother to give me some information I can work with?"

In front of him the figure of a man coalesced out of the nearby shadows and he didn't look very happy. "I would remind you that I am doing this is as a diversion, and that I am **not **some pet you can call on a lark."

"Funny," Hans smirked, "Because I didn't even call you this time, you came on your own. Bored?"

Pitch gave him a flat, steady look and then broke into a toothy half-smile. "You know I am. Out there where everyone's idea of fun is how many roses they can braid into the children's hair," His colorless hands fluttered as he mimed doing a pirouette in the small space, "And whether or not they want to build another snowman to be part of their wretched snow family."

Hans leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and smiled. "Tell me about it; I just got away from a pair who acted the exact same. Do you want to build a snowman, all the time; let's re-connect, that sort of thing."

Pitch rolled his eyes and walked over to the bench, indicating he should scoot over. "My god, they're dull, aren't they? That Elsa girl showed promise when I first saw her way back and I even thought about introducing myself when she got older, in spite of what those damn trolls said about fear being her enemy when _clearly_ it was other people, not _me_, but why do they always end up wasting their powers in the end? And for what, protecting people who they conveniently forget were the same people about to string them up for it? My god, even her parents wanted her to hide it; good for her that she didn't."

Hans' amusement faded almost imperceptibly, then he stood in the small space, wishing it were big enough to pace in. "Bad for me, though, right?"

"For you?" He chuckled, and when he stood as well there was barely any room between them. "Hans, you never stood a chance." He tipped his chin up with one cold finger, a lazy smile revealing all of his sharp pointed teeth, "They had you beaten long before you ever showed up; they're the good guys after all, _that's what they do._ People like you with no influence in the world except a clever mind can't be expected to get far in life. You'll always **just** be a _diversion._"

Hans stood at attention, feeling simultaneous sensations of withering to death from embarrassment and sporadic, mad bursts of fury; both of which he desired more than anything to hide from the shadow man that had first spoken to him all those long years ago when he held Aage to his chest. _I forgot it wasn't like any other dream; it was when we __**met.**__ Which makes sense now if he was only there for Elsa all along. He must have stumbled upon me on the way back and decided to kill some time._

"Well," Pitch exclaimed brightly, "On that note, I have some more important things to attend to; I'm sure you understand."

Hans snapped out of his ruminations long enough to see Pitch's form shiver and begin to lose its outline. "Wait a minute, didn't you come here to let me out?"

"Let you out?" Pitch crowed, his eyes and teeth now his most distinct features. "My boy, I never had any intention of letting you out. I don't know how many times I need to say it before you understand what exactly you mean to me in the greater scheme of things. If not Elsa, there will always be someone else with supernatural abilities I can persuade to join me. As long as you're human the most you'll ever be able to offer me in your pathetically short life is some amusing conversation. And while you are quite the charming conversationalist," He re-solidified enough to plant a cold, dry kiss on the prince's dumbfounded cheek, "I really must be going."


End file.
